


Silent Down

by Quintus



Category: Silent Hill, Watership Down - Richard Adams
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-25
Updated: 2011-07-25
Packaged: 2018-01-04 15:52:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1082891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quintus/pseuds/Quintus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An adaptation of sorts of the story of Silent Hill 2 into the universe of Watership Down. Hazel must brave the nightmares of Silent Down in order to find that which matters most to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

A dense fog sat over the waters of a vast, clear lake, where the autumn sun was twinkling over the ripples. All was still except for the chilly wind whistling through the branches of birch and rowan. No creature stirred but one rabbit, staring into the waters at his own tired reflection.

_Fiver … could you really be on this down?_

He looked up from his reflection and out into the still waters.

_I had a dream about you, Fiver. 'Hazel,' you said to me. 'Sometimes I still think about that big water we found surrounded by beautiful fields. I had hoped to come back with you, but it looks like things haven't turned out that way. I'm there now, Hazel, all alone, and I'm waiting for you.'_

_It couldn't possibly be true, of course. Fiver's dead—fell ill and died last winter.But then, why am I looking for him? Fiver, I … I miss you. I miss your insight. You always knew what to do, and what was to happen._

_You loved this place, Fiver. A big water, like nothing we'd ever seen before … And since we were alone when we found it, it was a special place for us without the others. Could you really be here now? Alive, waiting for me?_

Hazel didn't know why, but when he thought about that dream he felt certain that Fiver really was somewhere in this place—and if he was here, Hazel would find him, no matter how long it took. He was very aware that fu Inlé was fast approaching, and the fog made him half-blind the way it blanketed everything, but he knew he couldn't leave until he found the truth.

_But where would he be? I don't recall him having any favorite place. It was all special to us. There's that giant birch tree next to the water, not unlike the one at our warren. You spent quite a while there, just sitting and staring out at the waters._

Hazel looked out and saw the birch tree on a distant shore.

_It's a bit far, but it looks like I can reach it if I circle the water. If I'm going to find Fiver, I suppose that's a good place to start._

He started down along the shore into the meadow below. At the end of it was a short, plain hill, and Hazel got the idea that he could see the path to the to the birch tree more clearly from there. Nothing else moved across the meadow but the wind. The ground was cold and hard, and Hazel's every hop landed with a loud _thump_.

Hazel reached the short hill and climbed up. Between him and the birch tree was an abandoned house, with a yard full of junk and broken down hrududu. Hazel and Fiver had gone around it before, but now there was a hastily-erected fence on both sides.

 _It doesn't look like I can go around it like last time. But I don't know what else I can do. Hazel sat and pondered. Maybe I should head down anyway. If nothing else, I should be able to dig under it._ The yard made Hazel feel eerie, his heart dropping as his feet hit the rough ground. He nervously scanned the broken man-things as he crossed it.

Finally he reached the fence, and sniffed around. It was chain link, the holes too small for Hazel to fit through. He started digging under it—but it was planted deep into the ground, and no matter how deep he went Hazel couldn't get through. _Must be a way,_ he thought.

In desperation, he started chewing the wire. But it was too hard to bite through, and soon Hazel gave up, teeth aching. This can't be happening, he thought. _If I can't get through here, how am I going to find Fiver?_

He sat back and looked up at the fence, distraught. Looking around, he saw that the front door of the house was open. He paused.

_No, I can't go through the man-place._

But looking around, he could see no other way through. _It looks like I haven't got much choice._ Cautiously, he hopped up to the front door of the house and pushed his body through it to enter.


	2. Chapter 2

Inside, the house was pitch black. The windows were all boarded up and blocked out the daylight, and as Hazel stepped in, his feet touched built-up grime on the cold tile floor that sent chills up his spine. _Is this what men's homes are like?_ he wondered.

He raised his nose to smell. The place was thick with smells of mold and decay.

_This place must have more than one exit, like a warren. I'm not certain, though—I don't know these man-places._

As Hazel's eyes adjusted, he looked around the entrance area. There was one door into the first floor, but when Hazel pushed his body into it, it didn't move. There was a staircase nearby, and with nowhere else to go Hazel set to climbing it.

He came to the top of the staircase, and from there could see another one leading up to the attic. _Quite big homes, these men have,_ thought Hazel, already out of breath. He looked around at the doors on the second floor.

The hallway was divided in two by a set of bars, too close together for Hazel to fit through. Hazel didn't think much of it, and instead set to exploring the rooms he could reach for a way out.

The doors were all shut, except the one closest to the bars on the right side. Hazel pushed his way in slowly. The room was a guest bedroom with a connected bathroom, bed slightly disheveled and covered with dust and mold. Hazel went into the bathroom, looking for a way through. On the far wall was a conspicuous grandfather clock, and Hazel sniffed it and saw the edges of a hole on the other side. He tried to dig at it, but the clock was nailed in place and he couldn't get through. _Embleer thing,_ he thought. _Maybe there's another way._

He went back out into the hall. With all the other doors shut, there was nowhere to go but up the next set of stairs. Hazel climbed them and came up in the attic, which was full of junk and boxes. There was another set of bars dividing the attic in two, and another staircase going down on the other side. Climbing over the junk, Hazel came to the bars and saw a gate, slightly ajar and opening away from him. He sniffed around, then pushed his body into it—but as he did, a sudden force hit it from the other side, slamming it shut with a bang.

Startled, Hazel looked up and saw a young doe run into the darkness on the other side.

“Hoi!” he shouted, but the doe was long gone.

_Who was that? Another rabbit in a place like this?_

He sat motionless. He pushed against the door again, but it stayed shut, perplexing Hazel. _How men live in these places, I don't know,_ he thought.

He took a look around the attic, and moved about in the junk—but not immediately toward the stairs. He decided to look around for a bit and see if he could find a clue as to how to get out of there. The thick, musty scent of the attic began to cloud his senses, and after climbing through junk for several minutes he began to feel almost lulled to sleep by it. His mind wandered, and the room began to feel bigger and bigger.

He reached a far wall, which was bare except for some words scratched into it. _These are those lines men make. Like the ones on the signpost._ He didn't know what they meant, but through the attic's musty scent still filling his senses, he could feel a twinge of familiarity as the words swirled. He could hear them in his head: _Follow me, Hazel-rah. Follow me, Hazel-rah. Follow me, Hazel-rah._

Hazel jolted. Suddenly he was wide awake, and the room shrank to its original size. The words in his head left him so suddenly that he felt a slight pain. Suddenly his heart was racing, and he was thinking of Fiver. _Follow me,_ repeated Hazel. _Who could that be? Fiver?_

He stood up on his haunches looking for the staircase, and found it immediately.

 _I've got to find him. But with this way shut, where else can I go?_ he thought.

He headed back down the stairs, the determination was hot inside him. But as he came to the second floor hallway, he heard a scream that made him tharn. It was a male rabbit scream, and it came from down the hallway.

 _What was that?_ thought Hazel. He sat hesitant, afraid to go on—but he also felt he had to investigate, that ahead may lie some answer. He moved cautiously down the hallway, but as the bars came into view he saw something that made his heart sink.

A massive crow, nearly twice the size of Hazel, was sitting on the other side of the bars. Her head was skinless, exposing a skull with empty eye sockets. Hazel sat tharn, but the crow made no movements, only sat with head pointed directly in Hazel's direction. Eventually, Hazel was able to take a step towards the crow. She didn't move. Hazel began to slowly make his way down the hallway, fighting all instinct. The crow sat completely still until Hazel slipped through the doorway.

Heart racing, Hazel went swiftly through the bedroom into the bathroom. Inside was a dead rabbit, about the same size and color as Hazel, with his face completely ripped off. Hazel recoiled. _Who could've …_

Next to him, the grandfather clock was tipped against the wall, and the hole was exposed.

 _It looks like I can get through to the other side,_ Hazel thought. _But that crow is waiting for me there. Oh Frith, what should I do?_

The hole was barely big enough for Hazel to squeeze his body through, and as he looked at it the room seemed to turn read, and he felt a soft pulsing.

 _Follow me, Hazel-rah,_ Hazel remembered, and the determination he had felt returned to him. _I've got to do it, no matter what waits on the other side,_ and he squeezed his body into the hole.

After crawling through total darkness for a few moments, he came out the other side, pushing his way into a bathroom that looked much the same as the one on the other side.

Hazel swallowed his fears and poked his head into the adjacent bedroom. There was nothing. But his heart quickened as he faced the ajar door to the hallway. Slowly, he pushed his head through the door and looked around. He was on the other side of the bars, but the crow was gone. Nothing moved.

Hazel did not let his guard down. He stepped into the hallway and headed to the end, where he found the staircase heading up to the attic.

Hazel ascended and stepped cautiously into the attic. The crow was there, sitting perched atop the still-twitching body of another rabbit. Hazel went tharn as he watched the crow struggle with the rabbit and peck it, finally grabbing a tendon with her beak and ripping it out. Suddenly the attic door fell shut on the stairs as if sucked down. Hazel jumped, and the crow snapped her head in Hazel's direction.

She stepped off the body of the rabbit at a lumbering pace, leaving it limp. Hazel stood tharn as she approached, nowhere to run. Suddenly, she wavered as if struck and held her head down for a few long moments. She took flight, the attic door blew open again and the bird clumsily flew down the stairs.

Hazel sat completely still. _Why did she let me go?_ he thought. Finally he was able to move and stepped back down the stairs.

On the second floor, the door directly opposite the stairwell was now open. _This is the last way to go in this place. Is it the way that crow went? Well, no matter what I've got to see what's on the other side._ He prepared himself, and entered the room.

It was indeed another stairwell going down. But stepping in, Hazel saw that it was flooded with water, and the floor was wire mesh that hurt Hazel's paws. Suddenly, the door slammed shut behind him, and startled by the noise Hazel whipped around and saw the crow perched on a ledge in the top corner of the room.

Hazel immediately pushed on the door again, but it didn't open. Panicking, he backed up, and the crow swooped down at him. Hazel dove to the side, and the crow sailed past him and up to the opposite corner of the room. Hazel was in the middle of the room, looking around desperately for something to take cover behind. But there was nothing, and he dove to the side again as the crow swooped at him a second time.

The crow perched on her original ledge, then flew down and landed on the floor. Talons gripping the wires, she walked toward Hazel at the same lumbering pace as before, and Hazel backed up slowly. When the crow came close enough, she pecked—and Hazel jumped backwards, then immediately dashed sideways, running along the wall to the opposite side. The crow turned around in place and let out an ear-splitting caw. Hazel hunched, and the crow began her approach again.

Hazel stood his ground, letting the crow come in close, then dashed again to his original position. The crow turned around, let out another caw, and approached again. _It seems I can keep my distance this way, but how long can I keep this up?_

Hazel dashed a third time, then stood still. _I've got to fight back. It's the only way to end this._ The crow turned around and cawed again, but instead of approaching as usual, she gave Hazel a look, then took flight and hovered in the air for a few seconds. Hazel braced himself, and when she dove at Hazel he himself dove to the side and let her crash into the wall, her exposed skull hitting it with a _crack_. Then Hazel kicked her as hard as he could.

The crow was thrown back with a loud caw. But suddenly she stood back up and flew straight into Hazel, driving the top of her head into his stomach and sending him collapsing into a heap. She towered over him as he lay dazed, pinning him down. But rather than peck, she just looked at him, then gave out a loud caw, louder and longer than any before. Hazel's dizzy head blurring with the sound. As he hunched up, he realized that the water was receding. The crow turned around and began walking down the stairs, gripping the wires on each step with a talon, and left Hazel collapsed in a heap at the top of the stairwell.

 _She left,_ he thought. But he had not the energy to wonder why.

Once he had caught his breath, he picked himself up and headed down the stairwell, carefully making his way down the wet stairs. The first floor was open and empty, and Hazel hopped without obstacle through the kitchen and laundry room out the back door, where the sun shown through the thick fog exactly as when he went in.

 _I made it,_ he said to himself.


	3. Chapter 3

The grass felt good under Hazel's feet after the wire mesh. As he made his way through the back yard, he passed by a broken down hrududu and saw that there was a rabbit sitting on top of it. It was the doe from before.

“Hoi!” he called. “It's you! You're the one who shut the man-thing on me.”

“Oh, did I?” said the doe sarcastically. “I'm _so_ sorry.”

Hazel felt indignant. The doe was young—Hazel guessed that she had been born some time in the previous summer.

“What's a young one like you doing in a place like this?” said Hazel.

“I should think you'd know,” said the doe, “but then, you forgot all about Fiver, so this really shouldn't surprise me.”

She hopped off the hrududu and took off running in the direction of the birch tree. Hazel shouted after her: “Wait! How do you know Fiver?” But she had already disappeared into the fog.

 _I've got to find her again, and find out how she knows Fiver. She may even be able to help me find him._ He continued on his way to the birch tree.

The fields were empty and silent. After the pitch-black house, Hazel was glad to see the daylight again. He hopped over some short hills and fields, making his way to the birch tree and the clear waters of the lake.

There was a small rabbit sitting on the lakeside, staring out into the lake.

“Fiver?” shouted Hazel.

The other rabbit turned around.

“Oh, you're not,” Hazel continued.

“Do I look like a friend of yours?” said the other rabbit.

“Er, yes, my brother,” said Hazel. “He's dead, though.”

“Oh. I'm sorry,” said the other rabbit,

“You look just like him, though,” said Hazel. “He was small, like you, and your fur looks almost exactly the same. Even your voice sounds the same. What's your name?”

“Heather,” said the other rabbit.

“Well, Heather, what are you doing in a place like this?”

“I—I don't know,” said Heather looking down.

“What?”

“I don't remember how I got here. I just woke up, and …”

Heather was curling up on the ground, and Hazel felt a sudden pang of sympathy.

“Where are you going, anyway?” Heather continued.

“I'm looking for Fiver,” said Hazel.

“Fiver? But you said he was dead, didn't you?”

“Well, yes, but … It's hard to explain, but I had a dream about him, where he told me he waiting for me here.”

Heather didn't say anything.

“I know it sounds ridiculous, but Fiver was … special. It wouldn't surprise me if he really did talk to me in my dream.”

“By any chance, could he tell what was going to happen before it did?”

“Yes, exactly!”

“I see. So, this is where he said he was waiting for you?”

“Well, not exactly. He didn't tell me exactly where, but he liked this spot. This birch tree looks like the one at our home warren, and he just stared out at the water. We'd never seen a big water like this before, you see.”

“Was this the only spot he liked?”

Hazel thought it over as memories suddenly started to come back to him. He remembered sitting with Fiver at the edge of a cliff, from which they could see the entire area around the lake.

“Well, there's that cliff,” said Hazel.

“You mean the one on the other side of the water?” said Heather.

“Yes, that one.”

Hazel paused as he looked across the water. He couldn't see the other side through the fog.

“Alright then, I better get going,” said Hazel.

“Wait, Hazel, I—!” Heather shouted back. Hazel stopped, and Heather continued, “Uh, I want to go with you.”

“Oh,” said Hazel. “Whatever for?”

“Well, I'm … not sure where I'm supposed to be going. And there's not a creature on this down, not even elil—it's frightfully lonely. I'd feel much better if I could stay close to you.”

Hazel thought about it. “Alright then,” he said.

“Thank you, Hazel,” said Heather, picking himself up.

The two started off, going along the side of the lake, tracing the shore along the fields of short grass, rolling in the wind. The down remained eerily silent, and Heather stuck close behind Hazel.

No more than a quarter of the way around the lake, they came to a steep hill that extended inland. Hazel immediately set to climbing it, but it was almost straight up, and he couldn't get very high.

“I don't think we can get over here,” he said.

“Then what do we do now?” said Heather.

“Let's go along it and see if there's a way through.”

The two continued inland along the hill.

“There,” said Hazel, after they'd come a fair distance. He was pointing out a hole in the hill.

“There? Isn't that a homba den?” said Heather.

“Homba dens usually have more than one exit,” said Hazel. “We should see if it comes out the other side.”

“But what about the homba?”

“Well, we haven't seen another creature since I got here, so I have a strong suspicion it will be empty.”

“Alrigh Hazel,” said Heather. “Er, could you go in first anyway, and make sure it's safe? I'll stay out here and tell you if I see anything.”

“Alright then.”

Hazel poked his head into the den. He saw no movement, so he went inside, leaving Heather behind. He crawled through until he got to the very back, and saw the doe, taking a nap. As he approached, she jolted awake.

“Hoi,” said Hazel. The doe looked at Hazel, then bolted without a word.

“Wait! Come back!” Hazel ran back out the length of the tunnel to the entrance.

Heather was coming back out from the fog, out of breath.

“Heather, did you see a young doe run out here?” said Hazel.

“Yes,” said Heather, “I couldn't catch her, though—she was too fast. Shall we follow her?”

“Yes, of course,” said Hazel.

Hazel went in the direction he saw Heather come from, and Heather followed. The fields broke into foliage, and soon came out into a clearing. There, Hazel found where the doe had been going: rabbit holes.

“I think is where she was headed,” said Hazel. _I never expected to find a warren here. Fiver and I didn't come to this area, but I guess that doe found it somehow._

With only a moment's further hesitation, Hazel dove into the nearest hole, Heather soon behind him.


	4. Chapter 4

The warren was huge, burrows connected by tunnels big enough for three or four rabbits to sit side-by-side. A faint smell of death lingered in the whole warren, and the patchy dirt felt like it hadn't been lived in for a long time. Hazel felt uneasy—he didn't want to stay there for long.

“We'd better start looking,” said Hazel.

The two started checking the burrows. Each was empty but with that faint smell, and as the two searched them they went through tunnels that took them deeper underground.

The two had gone quite a while, and farther underground than Hazel felt he had ever been, before Hazel started to hear Heather breathing. He realized that Heather could probably smell the scent as well, and was also getting uneasy—perhaps tired.

As he poked his head into a burrow, he saw that Heather had already gone in and sat down.

“Hazel, I don't feel very well,” he said curling up. “I'm sorry. I'm just a bit tired, is all.”

“You should rest,” said Hazel, and he sat beside Heather, who lay down against the wall.

“Hazel,” said Heather, “I want to ask you something. What will you do if you can't find Fiver?”

“I don't know,” said Hazel. “I haven't thought about it.”

“But how do you know he's even here? All you had was a dream.”

“I can't explain it. All I know is that I can feel him here, and I've got to keep looking.”

“I see. Hazel, you should go look for that doe. I'll wait here.”

Hazel hesitated. _Is it safe to leave him alone here? Well, we haven't seen any elil so far. It should be safe enough._ “Alright,” he said, and stood up. He went back out into the tunnel, leaving Heather alone.

Hazel continued through the tunnels, but as he went he started to feel that there was something odd about the way they were dug. They led in a semi-circular path around a center he couldn't get to. He started to wonder if there were sections of the warren not connected to the tunnels he was in.

There was a run that went up at a steep angle, and Hazel decided to take it. As he started to climb, he felt a patch of dirt break off under him. _This dirt is loose,_ he thought. _I could probably dig through it, but alone would take too long. Maybe I could go back and get Heather to help me._ But then he remembered Heather lying down in the burrow, and looked up the hole. _I'll look into this first, then see about him later._

Hazel came out on the surface. The down looked transformed: it was now pitch-black night, dark clouds swirling in the sky, and dry and lifeless grass crunching under Hazel's feet.

He hopped around the grass and investigated the ground, looking for a way back in. He felt that the section of the warren he was cut off from should be right under him, if only he could find a hole. But as he went along sniffing the ground, he heard something behind him and turned around.

It was the crow, empty eyesockets pointing straight at Hazel.

Hazel jumped. The crow stood between him and the hole he'd come out of. His instincts told him to bolt, but he couldn't see any where to go in the darkness. The crow cawed, then took flight and flew at Hazel with her talons. Hazel fell backwards and tumbled through a loose patch of dirt, back into the warren.

Hazel laid collapsed at the bottom of the hole until his heart finally slowed.

Above him was the hole he'd fallen into. It had been covered by dirt with grass growing out of it, making it indistinguishable from the surrounding grass. But he was now in the cut-off section of the warren. The crow was nowhere to be seen above.

Hazel got up and started moving from the tunnels, going downward.

As he looked through the burrows, he heard something coming from one of them—digging. He looked in and saw the doe, then approached s lowly.

“Frithaes,” he said. The doe paused to look at him.

“Oh, it's you,” she said, and went back to digging. “Finally caught me up with me, did you?”

“My name is Hazel,” he said.

“I know who you are,” said the doe.

“What's your name?”

“Nihralili.”

“Nihralili, tell me, how do you know me and Fiver?”

“What's your concern with Fiver now all of a sudden?”

“He's my brother! Come now, why are you so angry with me?”

Nihralili stopped digging and turned around to face Hazel.

“Fiver talked about you a lot, you know. Sometimes he would talk weird, like he was somewhere else.”

“What?” said Hazel, confused. “How could that … ?”

“Do you not believe me?”

“Well, I … I'm sorry.” _Fiver died last winter. There's no way a doe this young could have known him._

“He was always talking about how he wished you were with him. Why, just up until last month, he …”

“No, you're lying!”

Nihralili scoffed. “Fine, don't believe me if you like,” and she returned to her digging.

“Nihralili, I'm sorry,” said Hazel. _Last month, Fiver was already …_

“Nevermind that,” said Hazel. “Come with me, Nihralili. We need to get out of this place. We can discuss this later.”

“Why should I?” said Nihralili. She turned up from her digging. “You won't have much luck going that way, anyway. Come over here.”

Hazel went over to the spot where Nihralili was digging.

“I think this leads somewhere, but digging it by myself is taking too long. Care to help?”

“Alright,” said Hazel, and they began digging together.

After a time Hazel felt himself coming through to a burrow on the other side. He looked back, gestured for Nihralili to stay put while he went first, and pushed his body through the hole.

“Do you see anything?” called Nihralili.

“No, it looks safe, but I don't see how coming this way gets us very far. There are no other exits.”

“Perfect.”

Hazel heard a collapse of dirt behind him, and turned around to find the hole they'd just dug filled in.

“Nihralili!” he shouted.

“I tricked you!” shouted Nihralili from the other side.

“Nihralili, what are you doing? Help me dig this out again!” shouted Hazel, digging at the spot.

“Why should I? I can already tell you don't trust me at all.”

“No! I just—”

Hazel heard a noise from his side of the hole—burrowing through the ground. A moment later, something burst into the burrow from above. It was the crow, dirt falling from her feathers as she stood in the rabbit burrow.

Hazel turned back in a panic. “Nihralili, please!”

“What, you want my help? No, don't answer that, I saw how you were. You don't care about Fiver at all, do you? Why, I wager you'd just get in my way!”

The crow approached Hazel at her slow, lumbering pace. Hazel was digging furiously, and in desperation shouted: “Dig, you wet-nosed quivering kitten!”

He heard a shocked sound from the other side.

“What? Fine then! Have fun digging out of there by yourself!” Nihralili shouted, running off.

 _Frith, no!_ thought Hazel. He turned around to face the crow, and braced himself. There was no time to dig through alone.

The crow drew closer steadily, and as she did Hazel pressed himself into the wall. Finally she was close enough to pin Hazel down, and she raised her head—then gave out a mighty caw.

Hazel's head filled with clouds, and he stumbled up dizzily. He felt like the burrow was moving, that the crow was rocking the entire warren with her caw until finally Hazel lost all his senses and blacked out.

When his vision returned, the warren had changed. The smell of death was much stronger now, almost unbearable. As Hazel moved forward, he felt his feet stepping over puddles of dried blood. His head hurt, and his mind was still cloudy—he felt like something had snapped, and he had shifted to another warren, this one even more wretched than the first.

 _Gotta … find … Fiver,_ he thought. He went back to the collapsed hole and started on it again. The dirt was much looser now, and came away easily. Hazel soon made it through to the other side.

The burrows and tunnels were all now coated with dried blood as if something had been ripped apart and dragged through. The dirt felt dry and uncomfortable, with dust breaking off it as Hazel brushed past.

_Where did Nihralili go? And what about Heather—is he all right in this? I should go back and check on him._

He stepped out into the tunnel. The way back was useless, as the hole he'd fallen into was too steep to climb, but going to the end of the tunnel he found it now loose and easy to dig through. He did so, and came out in another tunnel.

He soon recognized it as the tunnel he was in earlier, from which he'd gone to the surface. _What luck,_ he thought. _Heather should be nearby._

But as Hazel returned to Heather's burrow, he found it empty.

 _Oh, Frith,_ thought Hazel. _Heather's gone. Where could he have gone to?_

Hazel went to the middle of the burrow. There was no body, and no blood other than the dried blood that coated the whole warren now. It didn't look like anything had killed Heather. Hazel returned to the tunnel.

_I've got to find him. And … Fiver._

He tried to go back the way he'd originally come with Heather, but found the tunnel blocked—sealed off by dirt too solid to dig through. He went down the other way, then tried the steep run to the surface again—but it too was blocked.

 _Frith, I'm completely blocked in here,_ thought Hazel. _Is there anywhere to go?_

Hazel explored past the run. There were indeed more tunnels, and Hazel took them. They narrowed down into one path, at the end of which Hazel came into a burrow, big and empty. _It's a dead end,_ thought Hazel. _Oh Fiver, where are you?_

Then he heard something come up behind him and turned around to see a familiar form standing at the mouth of the burrow.

“Fiver?” shouted Hazel.

Heather stepped forward from the run.

“Oh, Heather.” Hazel continued. “Sorry about that. I'm glad to have found you. I was worried about you when I saw you weren't in the burrow.”

Heather suddenly raised his voice. “Oh, really?” he shouted sternly. “You don't sound very happy to see me, then! When I couldn't find you, I was worried sick, you know, and you seem to be thinking only about your dead brother! Do you actually care about me at all, or do you only keep me around because I look like him? This place is so big and empty, Hazel, I need you to stay with me!”

Hazel said nothing. “H—Heather …” he said at last.

Heather nuzzled close to him. “Don't leave me alone again, Hazel. Stay with me.”

Hazel again said nothing, only sat still as Heather nuzzled his head into Hazel's side.

“What about Nihralili?” Heather finally said. “Did you find her?”

“Yes. But she got away from me.”

“We've got to find her.”

“Yes, of course. But, er, do you know her from somewhere?”

“No, not that I know of, anyway. I just feel bad for her, all alone on this down. And for some reason, I feel drawn to her, like we were friends from long ago who haven't met in a while.”

“I see,” said Hazel. “I have an idea on where to go.”

He took Heather back up the path up the tunnel all the way to the steep run and the loose patch of dirt.

“Heather, help me dig here,” said Hazel.

They dug, and soon the patch opened up into a tunnel going down, as far as Hazel could see.

“Are you sure about this, Hazel?” said Heather.

“Yes, this is the only way to go,” said Hazel.

They went down the run. It went down much farther than Hazel expected, far deeper than Hazel ever thought he would go underground.

Ahead of them was a long tunnel with no connected burrows. As they went, it twisted around sharply, and the two had difficulty navigating it. Hazel heard a fluttering noise behind him and the sound of something landing, and his heart sank. The crow was standing menacingly at the mouth of the tunnel.

“Run!” he shouted to Heather, and the two bolted forward.

Hazel struggled to navigate the tunnel in the darkness, and was constantly running into walls. Heather stuck close to Hazel's back, and all the while the crow followed them at a steady pace, never more than a few paces behind.

Finally, Hazel felt the ground slope up again, and the tunnel straightened out. “Come on, Heather!” he shouted as he bolted up the path.

The crow followed them up the slope. Near the end of the tunnel Hazel ran into some tree roots, and quickly crawled through them after getting his bearings. But as Heather tried to climb through, he stopped.

“My leg's stuck!” he shouted.

 _Stuck! O Frith, please, no!_ thought Hazel.

Hazel grabbed Heather by the scruff of the neck and tried to pull him through, making repeated yanks in attempt to get Heather's leg free of the roots. The crow was coming closer every second.

“Hazel!” screamed Heather. Hazel pulled desperately—but Heather's leg didn't come loose.

“Hazel!” screamed Heather again, and Hazel pulled harder. But then he felt something grab Heather on the other side and pull him back. Heather disappeared screaming through the roots, and Hazel could hear the crow ripping him to shreds on the other side.

“No!” shouted Hazel. But then his instincts took over and he bolted up the tunnel. He came out onto the surface before he stopped and fell over, sobbing.

 _Heather, how could I let him die … I failed him …_ he cried. He felt like sitting curled up forever. It was still night, and the down was still in pitch-black darkness. But Hazel heard Nihralili run off into the distance, back towards the birch tree, moving as quickly as if she could see perfectly. _Fiver … What should I do? Are you really waiting for me here? Or are you …_


	5. Chapter 5

Hazel looked over in the direction of the cliff, then in the direction Nihralili had gone. He could not see the cliff in the darkness, and it felt very far away now. _It would be dangerous for me to try to find my way through an unfamiliar place in this darkness. Perhaps I should see if I can catch up to Nihralili …_

He headed back towards the birch tree. He decided to retrace his previous path and pushed through the foliage back out into the field, then went forward as straight as possible until he reached the hill with the homba den. He followed the hillside to the lake, then follwed the lake back in the direction of the birch tree. But there was something different: a scent that had not been here before, faint and indistinct.

Hazel followed his route until he came to the birch tree. _The scent is stronger around here,_ he said. _Is there something different about the tree?_

He examined the tree, smelled it and felt it with his paws. To his surprise, it now had scratch marks left by another rabbit. _Who could have left these? I don't think Nihralili would leave something like that for me._

He sniffed around the area and dug at the spot under the scratch marks. Buried in the spot was a cowslip, lightly nibbled on by a rabbit.

 _This? No, this can't be …_ he said, smelling it. But the smell was now clear enough that Hazel recognized it. _Fiver! Has he been here?_

Hazel now sniffed around the entire area, looking for a scent trail. Finally he found it: Fiver's trail, leading back toward the house.

Hazel dreaded going through the man-place again, but followed the trail nonetheless. But when he got there he saw that the fences were gone, and the trail went right through. It led Hazel back through the yard and over the short hill past the heather, then back into the meadow Hazel had first crossed into the down. It felt so long ago now, and the meadow looked very different in the darkness. There, the trail stopped cold—heading directly into the lake.

 _What? Fiver, you didn't try to swim across here, did you?_ thought Hazel. But as Hazel sat on the shore in confusion, he realized that the trail didn't go into the lake, it stopped just before it.

Hazel dug at the spot, and soon the ground broke through into a hole, going down poked his head in and looked around. The tunnel went farther than Hazel could sense, but he could still smell Fiver within, so he went down. It expanded in the same direction seemingly forever. After a while Hazel looked back and realized he could no longer tell how far he'd come, the entrance as distant and invisible as the bottom. A slight dread set in, and Hazel continued more slowly, conscious of every further step he took down the tunnel.

Finally he hit the bottom. The hole opened up into a wide burrow, in the center of it a pit. Hazel looked in.

 _This hole goes straight down,_ thought Hazel. _But it looks like it leads somewhere. I'll have to jump._

But as he stepped up to the hole, he grew nervous and hesitated. _This is madness,_ he thought. But as he stepped back, he smelt Fiver's scent still lingering in the air. _I've got to go on, for Fiver._ He jumped.

Hazel didn't know how long he fell. He didn't remember hitting the ground, but he knew he'd fallen far enough that it should have killed him. He picked himself up.

He was in a greenhouse, its dilapitated features illuminated by moonlight. The tables and shelves were lined with potted plants. _Flayrah!_ Hazel's stomach growled—though he'd ignored it up until now, he was feeling pangs of hunger. Almost without thinking, he climbed onto a chair, then onto a table full of potted plants.

But as he reached them, he found that the plants were all dead, and broke away at the touch. He let out a little sob as his stomach growled again.

Hazel looked around the greenhouse again. There were no exits that he could see, and the tables were all lined with brown, dried plants. Hazel tried to push his way down the table he was on and heard the pots slide as he pushed them—and heard one crash to the floor.

Hazel jumped, startled by the noise, then became still. I _should get back on the ground, but how to get down from this height?_ He went to the edge of the table and looked at the next one in the line. The floor felt very far below.

Hazel steeled himself and tried to jump from his table to the next—but he slid on the pots, and his hind legs fell off. Clawing desperately with his front legs, he felt himself sliding down until he lost his grip on the table and crashed to the floor.

 _Urgh._ Hazel lay in a painful heap as his head spun. He wondered if something was broken. _Got to … move on …_

He picked himself up slowly, grunting, then set to looking for a way out, partly to keep his mind off the pain. He searched along the dirty floor until he got to a glass wall. The greenhouse was buried outside almost to the roof.

Hazel scoured along the wall, growing more anxious as the place started to feel inescapable. Finally as he reached the corner he stumbled over a loose tile. In the corner some of the tiles were broken, and Hazel dug them up to reveal the dirt underneath.

Under the tiles was another pit, leading downward into darkness. Hazel hesitated again, but knew he had no other choice. He jumped in.

Again Hazel didn't remember hitting the ground. Now he was in a burrow, but it didn't feel normal—his vision seemed to turn as he looked down. Hazel started moving, but the tunnels seemed to twist as he went—and try as he might, he couldn't keep track of where he was going. Soon he couldn't even remember which way was up or down. He grew desperate, and began moving faster and faster, forgetting all consideration for where he was going.

Finally he came to another hole, going straight down into darkness again—although Hazel couldn't tell if it was really a pit, or the mouth of a burrow twisted such that it was under him. _Again. If I keep jumping down these holes, will I ever be able to get out?_ He jumped.

When he picked himself up, he was again on the ground with moonlit night sky above him. He was in a wood.

He stood up from the clearing he was in and looked all around, then tried to make his way through the undergrowth. He was becoming exhausted, and desperately wanted this nightmare to be over.

Hazel pushed through the woods, going from cover to cover as he was accustomed. Soon he saw something—a shadow, and he looked up to see the crow flying overhead. He immediately pressed himself flat against the ground as the crow came to roost in a small nest in the tree that Hazel was hiding under. Hazel stayed frozen and watched the crow until he thought she wasn't looking, then took off.

He kept going until he felt at a safe distance, then hid again to get his bearings. Once he was calm, he realized he could hear running water. He decided to head for it, following the sound.

His path led him downhill, and at the bottom of the hill he found a river, running along the face of a sheer cliff on the other side. Hazel followed it. Ahead, the river joined with a much wider one running perpendicular, and Hazel looked up at the top of the cliff and saw a figure.

“Heather!” shouted Hazel. “Heather, I—I thought you were dead!”

Heather giggled. “What are you talking about?”

“Why, in the tunnel, of course! That crow chased us down the tunnel, and then …”

Hazel stopped. Heather now had a worried look on his face. “Hazel, eh—I don't …” He was staring and scratching at the ground.

“Heather …”

“Hazel, are you seeing straight? We got separated in that long tunnel, but I don't … Are you sure you're not seeing things?”

Hazel looked up at Heather. He felt as if Fiver had said those words, and when he looked up he was almost surprised to find Heather instead of Fiver.

“You were always quite protective, Hazel. Remember that time on the cliff? You said we shouldn't stay there, that it was dangerous, but I said I could see the whole world from there.”

Hazel did remember that. But it was with Fiver, on their first visit to the down. He was starting to wonder if he really wasn't seeing straight. Looking up, he could no longer tell if the rabbit on the cliff was Heather or Fiver. They seemed to have blended together into one rabbit.

“How do you know about that? You're Heather, aren't you?”

“I'm not Fiver,” said Heather sharply.

“So, you're Heather?” said Hazel. His head was starting to hurt.

“Only if you want me to be.”

“What?”

“You know, I'm all alone, Hazel. I need you. Won't you come up here and take me away from this place?”

Hazel looked up. Now he clearly saw Heather standing on the cliff.

“Of course,” he said. “Wait right there. I'll find some way around the cliff and get there as soon as I can.”

Hazel turned back and went back up the river. He looked for a way to get across onto the cliff, but the waters were too rapid. The cliff went downhill as Hazel went, and the river winded through the woods.

As Hazel went upstream wondering how he was going to get across, he saw the shadow again. The crow was flying overhead again.

Hazel's heart quickened, and he kept moving. Finally he found a place where the waters were shallow enough to cross, and he went over to the other side. He started back down along the other side of the river and saw the crow's shadow again.

 _Is that crow following me? I've got to find my way to Heather, quick._ Finally, Hazel found his path going uphill, and ran faster. But when he got to the top of the cliff, his heart stopped.

Heather was dead, his body ripped apart on the edge of the cliff. _No!_ thought Hazel. _Heather! What happened to you?_ He put his head down before the body and sobbed again.

He had no idea what was real anymore. Had he really seen Heather die in the tunnel? He was starting to doubt his own memory, and his own senses.

 _Fiver …_ he eventually said. _Why is this happening?_ After a while he found the energy to stand up again and looked around the clearing. _I've got to move on,_ he thought. He continued down the cliff as it went down the wider river.

At the bottom of the hill was another pit. _I guess this is the way to go,_ thought Hazel, and he jumped down.

When he picked himself up this time, he was back on the side of the lake, and it was daytime again. Thick white fog covered the lake just as when Hazel had first arrived. Hazel was filled with relief and collapsed again where he was.

After a short rest he told himself: _Can't stop now._

He picked himself up and looked around the water's edge. There was a piece of wood floating in the water, and Hazel went over and placed a paw on it.

_This is … I think I remember how this works._

He cautiously stepped onto the raft, which floated out a bit into the water.

_Yes. Perhaps I could use this to reach the other side of the water._

Holding onto the raft with his front paws, he put his back legs in the water and kicked. Before long, he was out in the lake waters. Soon he could no longer see the shore in any direction, the fog engulfing him on all sides. He started to grow worried.

_Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. Will I even be able to find my way to the other side?_

He tried to keep to a straight path, but couldn't keep track of the current and soon had no idea which way he was facing. He stopped paddling.

He had been so relieved to find himself in daylight that he had forgotten the fog, and now found that he could see no more than a few feet in every direction. The thought crossed his mind that he was going to remain lost in the water forever, until he finally drowned or starved.

But as he looked around, he saw something—a rabbit in the fog, ears twinkling with light. Hazel followed it, the light shining through the fog.

He almost fell into a trance and lost track of how long he had been going before he hit the shore on the other side. When he finally got there, he pushed the raft onto the shore where the ground was low enough to climb onto. The massive cliff was now before him

 _I'm here,_ thought Hazel. _Fiver, I'm here._


	6. Chapter 6

The area around the cliff was surrounded by a wood, and Hazel went through the foliage, looking for a way around and up the cliff. It didn't take him long to find it, and as he stood at the foot off the cliff he looked up through the trees at the light ahead of him.

He had just taken a step when he heard a rustling in a bush behind him. He snapped his attention at the noise—and Nihralili came out.

“Did I scare you?” she said.

“Yes, you did.”

“I know why you're here. You're here to find Fiver, aren't you? Well, I've traipsed over this whole down and still haven't found him, so maybe you've had better luck.”

“No, I haven't. Are you looking for him, too?”

“Yes. Is he here? If you know, tell me.”

“Well, I think he is, anyway. But tell me, how do you know Fiver?”

“I've known him my whole life. He was always around the warren.”

“What warren?”

“Vleflain.”

“What?”

“He didn't go out much, and he sometimes acted weird, since he was so sick. Sometimes he would seem like he was talking to someone else. Sometimes it was you. He would say, 'Hazel, please, come back.' You never did come, but the older rabbits told me you were his brother and the chief of another warren.”

_So, Fiver didn't die last winter? Could he really be here?_

“He also talked about this place a lot. He wanted so badly to come back. When he wasn't acting weird, he told me about this place, and where it was. So when I saw he was gone, I thought maybe he'd come back. That was just this morning. I've been looking for him all day.”

Hazel didn't say anything. His mind was scrambled. “Well, why don't we go together now? It would be better for both of us, I think.”

“Fine,” said Nihralili, and they started through the trees up the cliff.

Hazel led the way up the cliff—it went on for quite a ways, but soon enough they came out at the top of the cliff, overlooking the entire lake.

Hazel had known this moment was coming, but he still hadn't quite been able to prepare for it, and now seeing the view that he'd last seen with his brother, Hazel was overcome by emotion. He heard nothing from Nihralili.

Hazel was holding his head down, but after a few more moments of silence he looked up again to see that Nihralili was gone. He saw an orange light in the woods and smelled smoke. _Forest fire!_ He thought. His instincts told him to run, but he couldn't. _What if Nihralili's in there? I've got to go in._

The woods seemed to transform around him as the light grew more intense, and the trees turned more and more badly burned. As he came in view of the fire, he looked around and saw the whole wood was now an orange-lit wasteland of black burnt remains.

In the center of a clearing surrounded by fire stood the crow, holding a screaming Heather by the head with a talon. “Hazel!” cried Heather in desperation.

“Leave him alone!” cried Hazel. But the crow stood stoic, eye sockets pointed in Hazel's direction, and crushed Heather in her rabbit's body went limp and his eyes rolled up into his head, blood dripping from his body. The crow dropped him to the ground, and Hazel, despaired and exhausted, put his head to the ground before the crow.

The crow approached once more, and Hazel prepared himself for the inevitable strike. He had no more energy to run or fight. But instead of the sharp blow he was expecting, Hazel felt a talon lay gently on his face. He opened his eyes and looked up at the crow through the talon on his face, the rest of his body limp.

“Look, Fiver,” said Hazel.

Hazel saw Watership Down rise up from the horizon. Fiver hopped up close behind him with slow, labored movements. He was wretched, weary from the distance they had traveled, fur patchy, nose wet and ears black with mites.

“Isn't it great, Fiver? We're almost home.”

“Yes, Hazel.” Fiver stopped in a coughing fit. “Wait, Hazel. Need to rest.”

Hazel stood still and waited while Fiver curled up on the ground. He put his head on the ground and lay down completely, and finally the fit subsided. But Fiver didn't move.

“Come along, Fiver. Can't go to sleep now. We're almost home.”

He went to nuzzle Fiver out of his doze, but when he put his nose to Fiver's body he realized that Fiver had stopped breathing.

“No!” he shouted. He was back in the burning wood with the crow.

“I—I dont …” he tried to say, but he knew what he saw was the truth.

The crow took her talon off Hazel's head and walked away. Hazel didn't move. The crow took flight, facing the fire.

“Wait!” said Hazel, but the crow didn't stop. She flew into the fire and burned herself to death.

Hazel put his head down and sobbed again. He now felt completely alone, the most perfect isolation he'd ever known.

The fires died down around Hazel, and he stood up and looked around at the burnt remains of the wood. Suddenly, he heard his own voice in his head.

“Fiver. Fiver, I've come to see you.”

“Hazel. I'm glad to see you. You've been coming less and less often.”

“Yes, Fiver, I know. I've just been …”

“Don't bother, Hazel. I know you're getting on, and you've got duties at the home warren, and this trip is getting to be too much for you. I've become a burden for you, haven't I?”

“No Fiver, I—”

“Look at me, Hazel. I'm just festering in this burrow, unable to even make the trip back home. No, I suppose you're better off forgetting about me.”

Silence.

Hazel shut his eyes tight, as the forest began twisting and blurring intensely around him. But he opened them again when he heard more voices, and saw two ghostly rabbits in his peripheral vision. One was himself, and the other was a Vleflainian rabbit.

“Your brother's not getting any better,” said the Vleflainian. “Are you sure he can make the trip back?”

“He must,” said Hazel. “He should be home, in his own burrow.”

“He may not survive it.”

“All we have to do is make it back home. Once he's there, he should feel much better.”

Hazel pressed himself to the ground, retching, his eyes shut tight. The images he saw swirled and danced around him.

“Get up,” he heard.

“Get up, Hazel.”

It was Nihralili. Hazel was back on the cliffside with Nihralili nudging his back. There was no smell of smoke.

“Nihralili. What's happened here? The woods are all burnt.”

“What are you talking about, Hazel? It's been like this all along.”

_But I thought that fire was …_

“Now come on, Hazel. Let's go find Fiver.”

Hazel stayed in place. “Nihralili … Fiver's dead.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“This morning when you found him gone, it was because I came and tried to take him back home. But he … He didn't survive the trip.”

Hazel's voice cracked as he said this. Nihralili was speechless.

“But … Why would you do that? You knew he was sick. Why would you … ?”

“I'm sorry.”

“Fiver was my friend. A lendri got my mother and all my brothers and sisters, but Fiver was always there for me. Even though he was sick. Why would you … ?”

Hazel said nothing. Suddenly, Nihralili turned down and ran away, up the path.

“Nihralili!” Hazel called, but he didn't have the will to stop her. He didn't have the will to move. He was overwhelmed by guilt.

“Hazel?” he heard. It was Fiver's voice, echoing through the trees.

“Hazel, are you there? I'm waiting for you. Are you coming?”

 _Fiver!_ thought Hazel. He raced up the path through the woods, following the sound of Fiver's voice.

Finally he came into a clearing. Fiver was standing there, staring off into the sky.

“Fiver!” said Hazel. “Fiver, I've been looking for you.”

The other rabbit turned around. “Why do you keep calling me that? Fiver's dead.”

“Heather,” said Hazel. “Heather, I know the truth now, about my brother.”

“What?”

“Heather, I don't need you anymore.”

“What? How can you say that? You do need me. Fiver's gone, but I can be with you forever. Just take me instead, take me away from here and forget all about Fiver, about the pain and the guilt.”

Hazel looked down. “Now I see it,” he said. “Now I see what the crow was trying to show me all along.”

“What?” said Heather.

“You're here because I needed someone to protect me—protect me from the truth. But that's over now. It's time to end this.”

Heather's expression turned to anger. “Oh, is that so?” he said. But then he doubled over, as if from a sudden chest pain. Then, his body began changing.

His skin and fur turned grotesque, like a corpse, and the skin on his face peeled back to reveal his skull. He lunged. Hazel fell onto his back with Heather on top of him, and the two scratched and scraped. Hazel struggled under Heather's weight until he managed to slip out, and Heather broke off as well. Both were bloodied by scratches from the other. Then they tackled again and fell on their sides.

 _He's too strong—I can't beat him like this,_ thought Hazel. He broke off again and kicked some dirt into Heather's face. Heather shook himself off, and Hazel braced himself. Then when Heather pounced again, Hazel fell on his back and pressed his back legs into Heather's ribs. Heather vaulted over Hazel's legs and slammed into a tree with a sickening _crack_.

“Hazel …” Heather mewed. Hazel watched him lay in a heap on the ground, staring into space as he repeated, “Hazel … Hazel … Hazel …”

Once more remembering his determination, Hazel closed in on Heather and violently bit down on his throat. Blood sprayed, but in that instant, Hazel felt liberated as all the weight, and pain, left his mind.

Back at the foot of the hill, where he had first entered the wood, he found Nihralili.

“What are you doing here?” she said.

“I'm sorry, Nihralili,” Hazel said. Both said nothing.

“Fiver and I were caught in a bad chill last winter, while we were on our way to Vleflain for a visit. We made it through, but he caught sickness and had to stay there. I thought he'd recover soon, but as months went by he only got worse. Eventually, I got so despaired that I …”

Nihralili still said nothing.

“When I saw him dead, I—I must have snapped. I convinced myself that he had died that winter, that it wasn't my fault. Then I told myself he was actually alive, waiting for me here. I'm sorry, Nihralili—I've been wrong this whole time.”

He was silent, and eventually Nihralili spoke. “What are you going to do now?” she said.

“I know the truth now. There's no need to stay here any longer.”

“So you're going back to your home warren?”

“Yes. Nihralili, why don't you come with me? It sounds like you haven't got anyone left at Vleflain, but you'll be plenty welcome with me.”

Nihralili again said nothing, just lightly nodded. The two left together, as behind them the sunset twinkled across the ripples and the wind softly whistled through the trees.


End file.
